The Telekinetic

Chapter One

Zane Frost sat in a small, dimly lit white room at a wooden table with a big strap wrapped around his chest, locking him to the chair.

Zane was still trying to wrap his head around it all. How could he possibly be a Meta? Developing superhuman abilities was what some people considered a gift from God, others a hereditary development and some even thought it was simple evolution, but regardless, the fact was it took a fair amount of luck.

Just my luck to win the superhuman lottery in the most gruesome way, Zane thought.

His mind kept wandering back to the image of the crushed car and the streaks of blood decorating the sports car. He'd heard the police call the passenger a man, and after witnessing the 'crash', Zane highly doubted the man was still alive.

Which made him a murderer. Unintentional or not, a man was taken from a loved one because of his actions. He tried to avoid thinking about what he would do over, but deep down he didn't know if he would sacrifice Max's life for the speedster's.

Did that make him evil?

A man creaked the door open tentatively. Zane had noticed cameras at separate intervals in corners of the ceiling. No doubt they had been monitoring him, making sure he was calm before they dared to venture inside.

A half-century ago, Zane's story about stopping a car with his will alone would've been surmised as trickery and the explosion the result of a bomb or something. However, the police were now well aware of the existence of superhuman abilities and were forced to take precautions against them. The room he found himself in was probably fireproof and capable of a bunch of other stuff he didn't want to dwell on.

The man advanced on Zane with a confident stride that felt forced. He was short, shorter even than Zane's 5'9, and had a weathered face that betrayed his aging existence. He sat in the chair across from Zane with a sigh and locked eyes with him.

He thumbed his badge which hung from a lanyard sitting on top of his tight plaid shirt. "Hi again, Zane. I'm going to ask you some questions if you don't mind?"

Zane nodded stiffly, doing his best to seem harmless, which wasn't hard when you were strapped to a chair.

The policeman pulled out a notepad. "You may not remember my name because you were...anyway, I'm Sergeant Lane. Are you sticking with the claim that you exhibited superhuman abilities as the car was about to run over your dog?"

"Yes." His voice was hollow, yet brimmed with the guilt that wore down his body, much like the metal strap around his chest.

"And this car was speeding?"

"Yes."

It didn't excuse what he had done. He couldn't bring himself to blame the driver for speeding on a deserted road. If only he hadn't thrown the frisbee so far...

Sergeant Lane took a moment to focus on scribbling in his notepad before raising his eyes again. "Now, before we continue, I want you to do an exercise for me." Experienced eyes searched Zane's face, not for his expression but for the feelings that lingered beneath the surface. The Sergent held up a plastic cup. "I want you to focus on making this levitate."

The last time Zane had tried - though unconsciously, to use his powers it had ended in disaster, so he hesitated to attempt the feat. He hadn't had the luxury of wanting to flaunt his powers, or even consider them a blessing. 

Sergeant Lane nodded in understanding. "This exercise isn't for no reason. As you've experienced, new Metas have trouble controlling their powers when they feel intense emotions. Thus, before I start asking you personal questions that may touch on intense emotion, I want your ability to be focused on something already, so you don't lash out at me."